No, Coronavirus isn’t a reason to start drinking again

Is it just me or is it, in fact, universally irritating to be told that, surely, surely… now is the time to have a drink?

“If this isn’t the time to have a drink then when is?” my friend asks?

“You’ve done so well, but surely, this is the time that you can let that all go?”

No! I want to protect my immune system and my mental health, actually.

Is that too much to ask??

I cannot think of a worse reason to start drinking alcohol again. Just at this time when we need all the mental and physical health we can get.

Which is not to say there are no treats, or special drinks. I am having a tasty AF drink at least once a day… and shortbread and chocolate as required…

…but I actually do not want to pick up alcohol at all and that is, truly, a big relief.

February’s stress and urge to escape my own head/family was a difficult time. I did think about picking up them. But all that went away when the HRT kicked in. Whew. I do feel much better for taking them.

… and the upset caused by this dreadful pandemic is just not that bad for us, just at the moment. Certainly life is totally different and surreal and upsetting. Yes, I do cry sometimes when I read how many people are dying. Yes, I do worry about my older boys who do not live with us.

… but alcohol is not the answer. Feeling the feelings is the answer. A lot of self-care and a lot of gratitude is the answer.

Only people who drink a lot and whose lives are unimaginable without drink say this… and they say it because to them, it seems impossible and incredible to choose to go through this time sober. And it is for them and that is ALL FINE. Because I am only looking after myself and everyone else’s story is their story.

Am I finding it annoying? yes, I am because it just shows how little understanding those drinking friends have of me and of sobriety.

But, let’s face it, I was just the same only very recently. The thought of never drinking again was like a massive chasm, a complete impossibility, unthinkable, impossible, too awful. So I do know where they are coming from. Perhaps I get irritated as I do not want to remember being the same, or even, perhaps, to accept that I was just the same.


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